what is a legacy?
by she-who-hears
Summary: Dick Grayson is growing up, but Robin will always be the Boy Wonder.


Aw _fuck_ yeah.

Jason eagerly tracked the ticking of the clock to exactly 3:07 o'clock am. _Tick, tick, tick._

_Tick._

As of this day, August the 16th, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne was no longer a wimpy 12 year old. No, he was a super mature, totally wicked, way-better-than-Dickface 13 year old. Sliding down the bannister (nOt So FaSt MaStEr JaSoN), Jason ruffled a sleepy Timmy's hair and plopped down into the head chair of the breakfast table, a shit-eating grin stuck on his face. Bruce grumbled and sat to his left, pulling a giggling Cassandra into his lap and blowing a raspberry into her pink cheeks. Ah, to be young again. Jason remembers his childhood days like it was yesterday.

Alfred placed a plate of blueberry pancakes with a mountain of whipped cream in front of him. "Happy birthday, Master Jason."

Jason grinned savagely. Oh, yeah, this was gonna be awesome.

* * *

Okay fuck that, today was not awesome.

Because not even fifteen fuckin' minutes into breakfast, Jason's ear picked up a thrum sounding from the driveway. He refused to believe _he _was here on his stupid dumb cycle, so Jason prayed the thrum was some other entity, like Titus magically transforming into a human-dog hybrid, or the sentient robot revolution, or even fucking _Harley Quinn_ doodling in and confessing Jason was her long lost son Bartholomew or some shit like that.

"Honey, I'm home!" Ah, so the universe did hate him after all.

Cass squealed, and the rest of his siblings (including Tim, Stephanie, and Duke, who all technically didn't live there but spent a minimum for 18 hours a day at the manor anyway) flung themselves into Dick's arms, who seemed to be strangely delighted at being trampled by a horde of what was basically the equivalent of loud, sticky pigeons. Even the fucking demon spawn abandoned his perpetually :( face in favor of bursting into a myriad of giggles as his eldest (and favorite) brother twirled him around and peppered his little face in kisses.

Okay, Jason understands Damian at least. Damian was Dick's _baby. _Dickface was the one who found Damian all alone in the League of Assassins Compound, and took him home, and tucked him in, and changed his diapers because of Bruce "the-youngest-child-I've-ever-adopted-was-still-like-seven-what-the-fuck" Wayne. Just cause Jason's had to play big brother for six months doesn't mean he suddenly the favorite.

Like he said. Totally not jealous.

Even Bruce had his constipated face on when the children were surrounding Dickhead and he couldn't get his cuddle-time (not that he would call it that. It totally was.)

Despite Stephanie hanging on his right arm and Tim on his left, Dickface smiled at Jason. "Happy birthday, Little Wing."

"Dick." Jason greeted indifferently. "Where's my present?"

"Out back, brat." Dick said. Rolling his eyes, his pulled Jason in his hug, who instinctually relaxed into it and pushed his face into his brother's neck. Curse his insatiable desire for familial affection! After breaking the hug, Dick smirked and lightly flicked Jason's forehead.

Jason sputtered, while Dick laughed and placed a much gentler kiss on his forehead. Adjusting Damian in his arms like a motherly gorilla, he looked down at his siblings.

"Let's get this party started!"

Honestly though, the party was pretty bomb. Alfred and Bruce had set out space in the back, and all of Jason's friends and family were present. Including Auntie Kate, wine aunt extraordinaire, and fucking _Wonder Woman_, whose mere presence was awesome enough to give Jason a nose bleed. Way cooler than Butt-man, or Nightwing McQueen.

Duke was sitting in Barbara's lap as she fed him some slices of cake.

"So, Jason. Why aren't you usually this happy?" She asked, smiling lightly. Her own present of the entire collection of Jane Austen's work sat in the garage.

"Because I hate this fucking family." Jason deadpanned, as he carefully cut a piece of cake for Tim and gently wiped some frosting off Duke's cheek. All of a sudden, his vision was obscured. It took him a second to realize that it was a helmet blocking his vision, and an arm was dragging him away from the cake.

"Gonna have to steal him away for a bit, Barb!" Ugh. Dickface. Jason turned around, but Barbie was only smirking at him. Why did literally nobody in his family care about him? He was a fucking delight. His English teacher said it herself, after Jason wrote a five page essay on Othello' character development for fun.

Before long he was strapped in behind Dick, who was humming some dumbass showtune under his breath. "Where're we even goin'?"

"Relax, it's just some Big Bird Little Wing bonding time." Dick answered like the troglodyte he was. "Better hang on if you don't wanna fall."

Jason grumbled, and only wrapped his arms around Dickie's waist because he didn't wanna become a boy pancake, and not because Dick was warm and his hoodie smelled like fresh lemon. Nope, absolutely not.

It was nice to feel the fresh air, even with the dopey helmet on. Jason loved his family, really, but there was just so many damn people. Bruce honestly had a fucking problem. Then again dude was basically just a glorified furry.

Jason soon found himself at a local taco stand, which was kinda sketchy to be honest. If you're immune system couldn't handle it, it gave you a bad case of the shits, which was also why Gothamites had no respect for Metropolis citizens. Step up, bitch. Not that Dickface would even care about Gotham after running away to Bludhaven of all places. At least Gotham had class, even with the boatload of crazies. She hardened her citizens because she knew it was the only way they would survive. Bludhaven was just ugly.

The two boys sat on the curb, Jason still pouting.

"Soooo," Dickhead started, licking up some "chicken" that was falling out, "How's school?"

"Like you would care." Jason snapped, practically throwing his taco on the ground, before picking it up and properly disposing it in the trashcan because Littering Is Wrong.

"Woah, Jaybird," Dick alarmingly said, his taco long forgotten at his brothers (adorable) grumpiness. "Of course I care."

Jason scoffed. "Well obviously not if you think you can just waltz in again, and pretend everything's hunky-dory when nobody wanted you here. Not Bruce and certainly not me." Dickie's eyes were wide and soft and _hurt _but Jason shouldn't fucking care because he's been hurting for six goddamn months and he didn't say anything.

He's been watching each and every Bludhaven news channels, waiting for the news of a fallen black and blue body to evade the crisp lips of another painted, perfect newslady. And he never even a phonecall back from the idiot sitting front of him.

"Jason, I-"

"You left!" Jason suddenly yelled, feeling the tell-tale burning behind his eye. He's better than this. He's learned not to cry since he was eight and Mr. Leeman punched him in the gut for "scaring customers away" in that gritty, Gotham slum accent Jason still had.

He shuddered in a breath, his shoelaces suddenly a lot more interesting. "You left." He said again, cold as ice had it not been for the slight shaking at his last word. "You left Tim and his puzzles, and Cassie and her ballet recitals, and Stephanie and her spelling bee, and Duke 's rollerblading tournament, and even Damian's evil little elf fingers making a finger painting project. It was almost adorable, were it not for his unholiness."

Dickface looked at him. Waiting.

"And me," Jason finished quietly. "You left me."

Because _fuck_, it honestly did feel like Dick had just left everything they've built for. Because Dick was one of the only people who didn't see a diseased steet rat, but the hardened child with a bleeding heart he was. Late night Star Trek marathons and soft, oversized big brother shirts, and homework help at three am and surprise hug attacks Jason pretended to hate, but didn't because he was just a lonely child underneath his bravado.

Jason was proud of his roots, honestly. But in the streets, it was quiet literally a shit-hole. A pretty smile hid sharp teeth, and Jason never truly understood healthy family dynamics during his early formative years. A glazed-eyed mother usually was slumped over the stained kitchen table, Jason holding her hair up as she vomited when he couldn't even tie his own shoes yet, chubby fists holding limp strands and wondering why Mama was so sick. But Dick and Bruce and Alfred gave him a safe place to grow up. To be loved.

All of that was gone. And Jason hates dt because stupid Dickwing took the blame for breaking Alfred's expensive vase when Jason was still convinced he would be abandoned, and snuck extra cookies for him, and let Jason share his bed the first month Jason moved into the Manor because whenever he closed his eyes, he saw only Gotham's bloody smile and smelled her cigarette breath.

Dick wrapped an arm around Jason's shoulders, who shrugged it off before unconsciously sinking into the affection. "You know I didn't leave because I...because I didn't _love _you right? I mean I'm in college now. It's normal for kids to want some independence. Healthy even."

But that wasn't it, and because Dick in his life was well accustomed to deciphering Bruce's Grunt #1 "Mrphn" from Grunt #2 "Hrmgh", it also meant he was aware of Jasons inner turmoil. At this point, Dick had wrapped his arms around his little brother and pulled Jason half into his lap, placing his chin upon his dark curls. Poor thing was shivering even in August, cheeks red and fingers numb. _God_, who would ever want to harm this boy?

"I'm sorry I left Jason." Dick said quietly, guilt growing in his stomach. "I always thought you guys would be happy if I wasn't pushing into your life so much. But I was thinking how the move would affect me. Not any of you. I'm sorry." He trailed off after that, Jason's tick of exhaling through his nose a clear indicator of the boy's quick forgiveness. Dick stayed silent, preferring to let Jason develop his own thoughts. Kid needed to learn to emote from someone who wasn't their Dad, after all. Jason clutched his fingers into Dick's jacket.

"I worry about you."

"That's okay."

"I wish you were closer."

"I know."

"I...I miss you."

"I miss you more."

Dickie had his thinking face on, which looked a lot like Bruce's but a lot less constipated. "Listen, I don't know about you, but I personally don't feel safe being so far away from my family. I need someone to look out for me, yanno? This morning for breakfast I ate half a stick of butter."

Jason looked up, and saw one perfectly groomed (?did he wax them?) eyebrow raise up. "What do you think?"

Jason nodded. "It's a valid concern. Wait, did you say b-"

Dick interrupted him. "I mean Bludhaven has an established Zeta Tube. I could come by every weekend or two. Check on mah dumbass siblings."

Jason scoffed. "Bitch, you're the one who fucking ate butter. Have some goddamn respect for yourself. Damn." He dismissed Dick, pretending he wasn't actively cuddling his bozo of a brother. Dick gave him his patented Grayson Smile™ and gave Jason another kiss upon his dark head. As Jason sputtered once more (which was unnecessary since Dick has _literally _seen him eat off the floor before, he can handle a kiss) Dick revved up his motorcycle.

"Now. We have a party to get to."

* * *

Dick bit his lip, wondering whether Jason was emotionally prepared for more emoting. He still had his present at the Manor, but he needed Jason completely alone. He was special like that. Speaking of the kid...

Jason was holding his hand, swinging it lightly as they walked the front steps of the manner and gazing at the strangely sunny sky. He was a rather clingy child, once you broke down the walls, but who was Dick kidding? They _all _were clingy. He attended for Bruce's meetings and sat in his lap for like a year straight when he was little, still raw from his parents deaths. Duke, Tim, and Stephanie all practically shared a room, and it wasn't common to find Cass upon Bruce's shoulders, placing sparkly butterfly clips in his hair. Damian still threw fusses whenever he was on the plastic potty and Dick had the audacity to leave the bathroom cause he was, like, 17, and didn't really wanna witness his baby brother mid-baby-shit.

"Hold up, Jay." Dick said, dragging the boy down the garage.

"Is this the part where you kill me." Jason said emotionlessly.

"Yes."

"Wanky."

Dick knelt down, and beckoned Jason to follow. Placing away a box of old photos (featuring a dapper looking young Alfred next to the Queen, a sweet-faced eight year old Barbara in a bumblebee Halloween costume, and a teenaged Bruce with a _fucking mullet_ holy shit), Dick finally pulled out a flat wrapped box. He placed the box in between the two of them and twisted his fingers into his jeans. Jason's eyes flicked from the box to Dick. "Am I supposed to open it?"

Dick nodded fervently, his skin suddenly feeling too hot. He was excited, sure, but also...anxious. Would Jason be offended?

Jason slowly unwrapped the ribbon, placing it on the ground. Then he turned each corner of the box, and took off the clear tape surrounding over corner. Then, he carefully unwrapped the paper, folding it and placing it beside him, making sure not to leave a mess, and to preserve the material for future use. He was left with a plain cardboard box. He opened the box. One second. No breath. Only black and red Kevlar.

A yellow R on the left breast.

"I wanna explain," Dick started, his mental notecards flushed down the mental toilet, "I can't be there for Gotham. I'm helping in Bludhaven and Nightwing and the Team..." He said in one breath, feeling slightly awkward. Jason didn't seem to notice. Jason's eyes were bigger than the moon; Dick is suddenly reminded of the slip of a thing behind his door all those years ago, Bruce's protective hands over his thin shoulders.

_"Your new brother."_

Did Bruce ever fathom one child would turn into a house of them? That the empty house of an orphan would be one of laughs and loves and little socked feet, pitter-pattering on the ground?

"Robin isn't something to take lightly." Dick said gravely, finding his footing. "A lot of people see Bruce's collection of orphans and think he's just grooming every child for the streets. But Robin is so much more than that. It... it isn't inherent. Nobody owes you the mantle."

Jason was clutching the material. Dick joined him.

"It's something only I can give. It's who I am. Honestly Bruce and I weren't even planning on passing it down. And one day, you'll pass it down if you want to, to whoever you want to, whenever you want to."

Jason's jaw was set. His heart already decided for him.

"I...I see _this spark_ in you, okay? Something that isn't going to rest unless you're out there in the field. Kicking ass and taking names." That got a chuckle. It was true. Robin wasn't just some happy, innocent child to counter Batman. Dick always had an _edge _to him since that night with his parents. At barely eight years old, he was already accustomed to the burning anger in his heart; toward the world, toward himself, toward Zucco. Bruce always wanted him to grow up with a healthy relationship with his emotions, investing in needed medication and Dinah's therapy sessions once a week. Bruce never wanted to see his children grow up like him.

He looked at Jason. _Really_ looked this time. Unruly black curls and freckled, brown cheeks. Wide green eyes. Those crisp collared shirts and soft pastel sweater vests he wore everyday, looking like a cherubic school-boy and not a traumatized former street rat. Jason knew Gotham better than anyone; she was in the way he talked and the way he walked, in his blood and in his bones. Who better to be the bird to the Bat?

Was Dick throwing him into the unrelenting arms of Death? He sees defiance in Jason's eyes though; the same defiance Dick sported that day Bruce refused his initial demand. Jason would not be silenced, and Dick knew that.

"Robin was my mother's name for me." Dick said, staring his kid brother right in the eyes. _Please understand how much I loved this._ "And now, it will be Gotham's name for you."

He suddenly had an armful of Jason. "I won't let you down, Dickiebird." Jason said determinedly. "I'll make you all proud."

Dick laughed. Kid couldn't disappoint him even if he tried. "You already do."

* * *

The two boys reentered the party, Dick's arms slung over Jason's shoulders. Barbara was busy trying to entertain a grumpy Damian, and Bruce was currently attempting to re-braid Stephanie's pig tails. Even lopsided, she still smiled. "Thanks Bruce!"

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and returned his attention to his two eldest. "I'm guessing you gave him your present?" Bruce smirked, noticing Jason's pink cheeks and genuine smile. He truly was the World's Greatest Detective (except concerning all those times Dick snuck out. Honestly though, the worst thing he did was go to I-Hop in mask with Artemis and Wally. Buzzfeed had a field day.) Tim ran up to them.

"Dickie, look." Tim demanded in that quiet way of his. He was clutching a paper in his hands, brown eyes looking up. "I got an A on my science project."

"Awesome job, Timbo!" Dick grinned, squeezing his little brother because Tim was a touch-starved squirrel. "The most important thing though I wanna know, was Jason a good big brother to you?"

Jason wasn't expecting Tim to break out in a full out smile, dimples and everything. "Yeah! He stayed up with me and read me Shakespeare and gave me puzzles!" Shit. Tim was cute. Shit fucking hell. Jason was feeling mushy protective feelings now. Ew. Tim frowned for a second.

"Although I didn't like when he told me I shouldn't tell anyone, or he'd eat me." Jason fake-lunged at the kid, but Tim slipped away to run into Bruce's arms, who was looking quiet pleased with himself with at least one child wanting to spend time with him. Barbara then walked up, carrying a fidgeting Damian, who immediately slunk into Dick's arms. He whispered into his ear, and toddled over to Jason. Jason crept down, and Dick's demon baby fucking _hugged _him, and pressed a sloppy child's kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday Jason." He giggled, with all the pronunciation of a distinguished British gentleman. He's not sure if the squeal was Barbara's or Dick's. Probably both.

Later that night, Jason dozed lightly on his father's arm, a blanket thrown over them and a bowl of popcorn on Bruce's lap. "Did you have a good birthday, Jaylad?" Jason nodded sleepily. Bruce stared at the precious sight. Bruce honestly just assumed at his age, he would've been satisfied with a snappy English butler and his bats to keep him company (Gabby's his favorite, cause of that one time she shit on Hal Jordan's head.) But instead he received seven children who softened his battered heart somehow.

"Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Dad."

**Bonus**

Jason cartwheeled out of his room, proudly wearing the R insignia.

"I'm Robin, and being Robin gives me magic!" He preened.

Bruce almost wept by the Power of the Cute.

Dick did weep by the Power of the Cute.

And they all lived happily ever after and nothing bad happened ever.

The end :)


End file.
